2. We were standing in line outside of something
two by two, or alone in pairs, or simply alone,
looking into windows full of scissors,
windows full of shoes. The street was closing,
the city was closing, would we be the lucky ones
to make it? They were showing
in a glass case, the Man Without A Country.
We held up our passports in his face, we wept for him.
They are dumping animal blood into the sea
to bring up the sharks. Sometimes every
aperture of my body
leaks blood. I don’t know whether
to pretend that this is natural.
Is there a law about this, a law of nature?
You worship the blood
you call it hysterical bleeding
you want to drink it like milk
you dip your finger into it and write
you faint at the smell of it
you dream of dumping me into the sea.
and who are you to ask for more, who are you to insist on hunger? ❞
And we are howling or dancing out our souls
In beating syllables before the curtain:
We are Shakespearean, we are strangers. ❞
Pillar of white in a blackout of knives.
I am the magician’s girl who does not flinch ❞
your wholeness cascades into many shapes.
You run like a herd of luminous deer,
and I am dark;
I am forest. ❞
we’re having, let it be extravagant. ❞